Best Served Cold
by laoisbabe
Summary: Gibbs life hangs in the balance when he goes back to Stillwater and gets more than he bargained for. SPOILER ALERT!Several references to Season 6, Heartland. Final chapters up!
1. Chapter 1

Jackson Gibbs forlornly surveyed the damage to his store. It hadn't been first time he'd been targeted. It had been happening a lot lately and he was feeling angry. He looked at the stock strewn on the floor. This had been the worst yet. Cereal cartons ripped, juice cartons poured on the floor, tinned goods crushed and damaged. They did a hell of a lot of damage but as far as he could tell they took nothing. He had been to the police the first few times it had happened but they had no leads and said they could do nothing. Jack himself had a pretty good idea who was responsible but had no way of proving it. Despondently he began to clean up. At his advancing years he could really do without all this agitation he thought to himself. He was engrossed in the clean up operation and didn't hear the car pull up outside. It was only when a familiar voice called his name, did he turn. He was pleasantly surprised to see his son standing in the doorway.

"Leroy! What are you doing here?" he asked, delighted to see him. He still called his son by his first name.

" Thought I'd surprise you. Jeez, what the hell happened here? Were you robbed?" Gibbs asked, looking at the destruction.

"Not exactly. Just some punk kids I guess. You know what it's like around here, nothing for the youngsters to do. They get bored," Jackson replies attempting an explanation and hoping his son would buy it.

"That's no excuse. What did Seth say?" Jethro enquired referring to the local sheriff Seth Welch. He noticed that his father couldn't look him in the eye. He suspected that Jackson was keeping something from him.

"Well, I didn't bother calling him this time," Jackson replied, before realising what he's said.

"This time?! You mean this has happened before," Gibbs asked, the tone in his voice giving away his anger. "I think it's time you told be what's going on. Sit!" he ordered, pointing to the nearby table and chairs. Reluctantly Gibbs Senior did as he was told.

"I'm not one of your agents, you know. You can't just arrive in here and start throwing your weight around," Jackson snapped as he shuffled to a chair.

"Oh, don't get all defensive on me. I'm just disappointed that you didn't tell me this was happening," Gibbs explained apologetically.

"Why? I've seen you once in the last 15 years and you expect me to run to you when there's a bit of trouble," Jackson reminded him crossly.

"Okay, I deserved that," Gibbs acknowledged. "But you're still my father and I want to help."

"Well, I can fight my own battles, thank you," Jackson replied stubbornly. "Coffee?" he asked, standing back up and walking over to the machine.

"Sure," Gibbs answered, trying to stifle a smile of admiration at his old man's independence. They were both very alike in some ways, Gibbs realised, as he watched the old man pour strong black coffee into two mugs and return to the table. He had certainly inherited his old man's stubborn streak, he noted. They exchanged no words as they savoured their coffee. Eventually Jackson broke the silence.

"You never did say why you're back again. Someone else been murdered?" he wondered.

"Nothing like that. I just thought we should continue catching up, that's all. I took a few days vacation time owed to me," Gibbs explained.

"That's great, son. I'd like that, but first you can grab that broom over there and give me a hand. You start in that corner," he said smiling, sending his son into the worst affected area in the store.

Gibbs grinned but said nothing. He took a large gulp from his coffee mug and grabbed the broom and dust pan. He swept the cereal and re-stacked the unbroken packets. His father followed with a mop to soak up the spilled liquids. Between them they had the store looking pretty good before closing time.

Jackson Gibbs locked up the store a little after 8pm. When he was not minding, his son double checked to make sure the place was secure. They retired to Jack's living quarters upstairs, above the store. He prepared a meal of steak and vegetables and they both sat and enjoyed a long overdue chat. As Jack reminisced he mentioned names long since forgotten by his son. Carefully stored memories were awoken and happier times of youth recalled. After dinner, Jackson produced a bottle of scotch which he had been saving for a special occasion. He opened it and they both enjoyed a few nips before bedtime.

Jack apologised for not having a room prepared and handed Jethro some sheets and blankets to make up his old bed. It was strange for Gibbs to be sleeping in his old room. Even after all these years, it still smelt the same, he noticed. He lay looking at the door, half expecting his mother to stick her head in and bid him goodnight. So much had happened since he last slept in this bed, he thought, a lifetime had passed. It didn't take him long to get to sleep, thanks to a little alcoholic assistance from his father's scotch.

He didn't know how long he had been asleep when he was first awoken by a noise from downstairs. He sat up in the bed, disorientated at first. The sound finally registered in his sleepy brain – breaking glass. Thinking the store was being broken into again he grabbed his weapon and ran down the stairs. On his way down, he noticed a flickering orange glow. It didn't take him long to realise that the store was on fire. He turned and shouted for his father to get up before continuing down into the store. Quickly, he surveyed the scene. Inside the front door and near the main window was already well ablaze. The fire had caught onto a magazine rack which had fallen over and the flames were slowly creeping over towards the cashier's desk, where the tobacco and alcohol was kept. He knew his father used to keep a fire extinguisher near the stairs and hoped that he still did. He was relieved to see that it was still there. Cautiously he approached the flames and standing back, he aimed the extinguisher. A burst of foam sprayed the flames. Then he noticed his father coming down the stairs with a basin of water.

"Get out, Dad!" he shouted, waving him towards the rear exit. His father ignored him and walked dangerously close to the flames at the front of his store and threw the water on them. As you would expect, the water had little or no effect of the blaze. Jethro's concern for his father grew when he noticed that the smoke was getting worse and decided the best course of action was to get his father to safety. He dropped the extinguisher, grabbed Jackson and manhandled him towards the back door.

"Come on, Dad, it's too dangerous," Gibbs shouted as Jackson protests.

"Everything I have is in there, Leroy. I can't lose it," he pleaded. Gibbs looked at the heartbreak in his father's eyes and made a decision.

"Call for help. Whatever happens, don't come back inside," he shouted before returning to try and tackle the blaze.

As he got back into the burning store, he noticed that the heat had intensified. The smoke was burning his lungs. He pulled his t-shirt over his nose and mouth as he searched for the fire extinguisher again. He found it and battled hard against the flames. He could feel the hair on the back of his hands scorching. After what felt like an age he noticed that his efforts seemed to be having an effect. Then he saw the flashing blue lights of the fire tender through the shattered window. He was more than relieved to see the firemen breaking windows and dousing the flames with jets of water.

Outside, Jackson Gibbs was terrified and shouting at the Chief Fire Officer that his son was still inside. They raced around the back to be met by an exhausted looking Gibbs coming through the back door, face blackened and sweating. He was doubled over coughing and wheezing, obviously feeling the effects of smoke inhalation. The fire officer offered him oxygen from his breathing apparatus as they waited for medical assistance. Jack put his arms around his son and comforted him as he tried to catch his breath.

"Are you alright, son?" Jackson asked. Gibbs nodded, as he gratefully took large breaths from the breathing apparatus. He looked back at the smoke billowing from his home-place and turned to see tears in his father's eyes. It was enough to break the hardest heart.

Jackson's neighbours were out watching what was going on and his good friend Gus, owner of the local bookstore, offered them somewhere to stay for the rest of the night. They gratefully accepted. He gave Jethro a bathrobe to cover up as he was still wearing his nightwear. As he was showing Jethro to the bathroom so he could shower and clean up he noticed the burns on his arms and hands.

"You should really go to the hospital and get those burns seen to," he suggested, handing Gibbs a fresh towel.

"No, I'm fine. I'll just get cleaned up. Thanks," he said, closing the bathroom door.

As Gibbs stood under the shower, he washed away the smell of smoke from his body. He closed his eyes and appreciated how good the water felt. His throat was still a bit raw but the steam was helping his lungs. As the water grew hotter, he could feel the skin on his arms and the backs of his hands stinging. It was getting uncomfortable so he turned the temperature of the water down and eventually off. He quickly dried, careful not to irritate his already tender limbs.

He returned back to the kitchen, looking and feeling a lot better. He hadn't even sat down when his father hollered at him.

"Leroy! Show me your hands," he demanded. Never one to ignore his father, Gibbs did as he was told. The burns were an angry red colour now with blisters forming, more obvious since the soot and dust had been washed from Jethro's skin. "Sit!" he ordered. "Now if you won't go to the hospital, I'm getting Doc Winters out to have a look at you."

"Dad, stop it! My hands are fine. We could've been killed there tonight. Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on or am I going to have to call my agents and start kicking down some doors," Jethro responded testily.

Jackson looked over at Gus, who nodded, encouraging Jackson to tell his son the whole story.

"Well, it all began after your last visit. Winslow's daughter took her son and left Chuck alone in that big house. He didn't handle it well. A few weeks later he closed down the mine without warning. There are lots of people very angry in this town right now. I found out how angry when the first brick came through my window with a note on it. Whoever is doing it blames you, son," Jack tells him.

"Me? Because I did my job?" Jethro asked.

"Not everyone sees it that way. Chuck couldn't handle being disowned by his only daughter. He's hardly left the house since. None of his suppliers have been paid. Fmily men have been let go. People are looking for someone to blame," he informed him.

"Great! So I've become public enemy number one in Stillwater without even knowing it. Well, I'd better pay Winslow a little visit, see what he has to say," Jethro decided without hesitation. "Gus, can I borrow some clothes?"

"Please Son, at least wait until morning. The Doc will be here soon to look at your hands," Jackson pleaded, blocking Jethro's way.

Gibbs relented, partly because of his father but also because he was feeling pretty exhausted. He wouldn't be able to stand up to anyone at the moment, he thought. He was still taking sporadic fits of coughing which rendered him fairly helpless at times. So he sat and waited however impatiently with his father and Gus and contemplated his approach toe situation.


	2. Chapter 2

They were waiting almost a half hour before the door bell rang. It was the doctor at last. Gibbs was actually glad to see him by that time, as he was starting to feel the pain from the burns he had suffered. Gus showed the doctor in to the kitchen to where the two Gibbs' men were sitting.

"Sorry to hear about the store, Jack. Is there much damage?" Doctor Winters enquired from Gibbs senior.

"Enough to keep it closed for a while, Ben. It could be worse though. At least we got out," he admitted shaking his head. "This is my son, L.J.," he said, introducing Jethro. " He was fighting the fire and managed to get his hands burnt."

"Nice to meet you, L.J.," the doctor said, taking a seat at the kitchen table beside Gibbs.

"It's just Gibbs," he corrected.

"Okay, well, you'd better let me have a look then, Gibbs."

Gibbs extended both his hands, palms down, so that the doctor could see the damage. Redness extended from his elbow down to the back of his hands. There were already blisters forming on the skin in places.

"First degree burns on your forearms, more like second degree on your hands. I'll give you something for the pain and dress your hands. Use this ointment on your arms. It should fix them up in a day or two. Your hands will take a bit longer," he said, rummaging in his medical bag.

"Thanks," Gibbs replied as the doctor gently applied the ointment. He tenderly placed pieces of gauze over the back of Gibbs hands and bandaged around them both.

"There you go. Try and keep them dry and come to the surgery tomorrow and I'll change the dressings for you," the doctor said, just before Gibbs took another fit of coughing.

"That doesn't sound too good. Did you inhale a lot of smoke?" he asked a now red faced Gibbs.

"A bit," he managed to answer, as he regained his breath.

"Okay, lift up your shirt and let me listen," the doctor ordered, taking out his stethoscope. He placed it on Gibbs' chest and told him to take deep breaths. "Good, now let me look in your throat," he asked, taking out a tongue depressor from this bag. He shone a light down Gibbs' throat.

"Your chest sounds a little rattley. Your throat looks a little raw, but no obvious burns. You just need to take it easy for a few days. Smoke inhalation can be unpredictable, so if it becomes difficult to breathe or swallow, get to the hospital, alright?" Doc Winters recommended.

"I will. Thanks again, Doc," Gibbs said, as the doctor stood to leave. Jackson Gibbs escorted him to the door, shook his hand and thanked him.

After he had left, they all remained downstairs for a while, Gus making sure they each had a stiff drink "for medicinal purposes." It was obvious that everyone was exhausted so he showed both men to his spare bedroom. Jack managed to get to sleep quite quickly. Gibbs mind was racing and he struggled to find sleep. His mind was on other matters, mainly how he would approach Chuck Winslow in the morning.

---------------

Leroy Jethro Gibbs rose early the next morning. In the stillness of morning, dressed in only the clothes loaned to him by Gus, he crossed the street to the burnt out store. He went around the back and gained entry to the sodden, fire damaged premises. He surveyed the damage and a blaze of fury rose inside him. He was going to find the person responsible for this, he promised himself. He climbed the stairs into the living quarters. Upstairs was relatively undamaged although everything reeked of smoke. He opened out all the upstairs windows to try and air out the place. He returned to his old room and found his clothes. They too smelt of smoke but they'd have to do for the time being. He searched for his car keys and phone. The keys were on the bedside locker but there was no sign of his cell phone. He presumed that he had left it in his car so didn't look too hard.

He called the lumber yard from the payphone outside the store. It was early but they were already opened. He arranged for plywood sheets to be delivered to board up the front of the store. They agreed to be there before midday. Having sorted that out he walked to his car. His father had restored it and given it to him the last time he was home. A 426 Hemi, yellow and black livery. It still brought a smile to his face when he saw it. He sat in, revved her up and sped down the main street of Stillwater heading out of town, towards Winslow's place.

By the time he got to Winslow's, it was 8.30am. There was no sign of life about the place. He sat in his car and watched for any movement. There was a sedan and a truck parked in the driveway. Someone was home. He waited until 9am and then decided to knock. When he stepped onto the porch, the front door opened before he had a chance to knock. It was Chuck. He had a strange look on his face, as if he knew something Gibbs didn't. Gibbs found the grin a little disturbing.

"Chuck," he said greeting his former school mate.

"Leroy Gibbs, as I live and breathe. Twice in one year, aren't I the lucky one!" he said sarcastically.

"Can I come in?" Gibbs asked calmly.

"Oh sure," Winslow replied, standing back and gesturing into the hallway. "You look like you've had a rough night," he said smirking oddly.

Gibbs entered the hallway and almost instantly regretted it as Winslow slammed the front door closed and stood to block his exit. One of Winslow's associates loomed large in the living room doorway, another in the kitchen doorway. Gibbs felt like kicking himself for so simply walking into what could only be described as a trap.

"So, Leroy, it's time to settle up I guess," Chuck says, shoving him in the back towards the living room.

"I didn't come here to fight, Chuck. Someone tried to burn down my father's store last night. I was wondering if you knew anything about that," Gibbs explained turning to face Winslow.

"Well, boys, do we know anything about that?" Winslow laughed. His associates joined in. "Aw, what happened, did you hurt you hands?" Winslow asked in mock concern as he noticed the bandages on Jethro's hands. Gibbs didn't answer. He studied the reactions of the other two men.

"What? No witty come back? I'd say he's scared, boys," Chuck laughed. "Well, he should be," he threatened, his face changing noticeably. He picked up a poker from the fire place and wielded it in a threatening manner in Jethro's face. Gibbs was wishing that he hadn't left his weapon in the car.

"Look, Winslow, I know you're pissed. But you've got to believe me when I say that I didn't get any pleasure from locking up your son-in-law. I was doing my job. I'm sorry things turned out so bad for you, but it wasn't my fault," Gibbs pleaded, hands up hoping to get through to him.

"Not your fault? Who's fault is it then, mine? You smug son of a bitch," he shouted before smashing the poker across Gibbs' legs. Gibbs roared in agony as his knee cap shattered and he crumpled to the floor, clutching his left knee.

"Oops, did you see that, boys? I didn't mean it…. It wasn't my fault...." he chuckled as he spit on the injured Gibbs. Gibbs struggled to regain his breath as the searing pain shot up his leg. He was helpless, unable to get to his feet.

"I think he needs a little help, guys. Stand him up," Winslow ordered as Gibbs glared up at him.

"Aargh!" Gibbs screamed as he was hauled upright. Each guy held him up by his elbows. He tried not to put any weight on his injured leg. "Look, Winslow, I get it okay. If you let me go, I'll just say I fell," Gibbs suggested breathlessly.

"Don't beg, Leroy, it doesn't suit you," Winslow spat mercilessly. Then he punched Gibbs in the ribs. Gibbs tried to double over but his captors held him upright still. Winslow rubbed his fist. "You see Leroy, revenge is a dish best served cold. First I'll have some fun, for old time's sake, then, well….you'll beg me to kill you."

Gibbs was helpless to defend himself. Winslow used him as a punching bag for a while. Punches rained down mercilessly on his face and torso. It wasn't long before Gibbs began to lose consciousness. He hung limply in the arms of Winslow's two henchmen. When Winslow noticed he was unconscious, he ordered them to drop him on the ground. They both just let go simultaneously and Gibbs crashed to the floor. As he fell, his head hit the corner of the marble fireplace. He lay there motionless. Blood began oozing onto the floor boards from a gaping wound on the back of his head.

"Ah, shit. I think you killed him," Winslow complained when he saw the ever increasing blood pool. "Great, we have a dead Fed on our hands. We gotta be smart. Tom, you get rid of his car. Mike, give me a hand with the body," he said, dragging Gibbs towards the kitchen. "He's leaving an awful mess on my floor. Get me a garbage bag. I don't want his blood all over my house," Winslow said heartlessly. Mike returned with the bag.

"So what are we going to do with the body, Chuck?" he said, putting the bag under Gibbs head.

"Not sure. I hadn't actually planned on killing him, you idiot. I just wanted to rough him up and scare him," Winslow explained, for the first time feeling rattled.

"I could take him to the lake," Mike suggested.

"No, too risky. There are usually fishermen around this time of year," Winslow reckoned. "I know exactly where to take him. The mines. They're empty now and so many of them are abandoned. Get him into the truck. I know the perfect place."

Both men swung Gibbs limp body up into the back of the truck, covered him over and drove off in the direction of the mining company. They turned off the main road about a mile before the entrance to the Winslow Mining Company. They drove up a twisty, uneven road and eventually onto a dirt trail.

"We'll have to walk the rest of the way," Winslow informed Mike as he got out of the truck. With some difficulty they carried Gibbs another mile or so until they came to an old mine shaft.

"No one is ever out here. It's too dangerous. Come on," Chuck said as they entered the sloping entrance to the mine. The shaft was pitch dark and lengthy. Small pieces of rubble fell from the roof as they walked down. It got steeper and steeper the deeper they went. They followed old railcar tracks until it got too dangerous. The wooden beams creaked making them nervous.

"Here will do. It's not safe to go any deeper," Chuck admitted as they dropped Gibbs' body onto the cold ground. Without a second glance, they both quickly got out of the mine and jogged back to the truck. As they returned to Winslow's house they passed no other vehicle. Tom still hadn't returned from dumping Gibbs' car. He called soon after they returned looking for a ride back to Stillwater. Mike went to pick him up while Chuck got some cloths and bleach and scrubbed his floor. By the time he had finished, it appeared as if nothing untoward had ever happened in his house.


	3. Chapter 3

Jackson Gibbs woke to find the other bed in Gus' spare room to be empty. He wondered where his son was. He looked at his watch. It was 8.30am. He didn't usually sleep that late but it had been an eventful night. He went downstairs to find Gus cooking up a feast of bacon and eggs.

"Is Leroy not up yet?" Gus enquired as Jackson entered the room.

"I thought he was down here," Jack replied. "I hope he hasn't gone looking for trouble."

"I'm sure he hasn't, Jack. Sit down and have some breakfast. He's probably gone to get some fresh air," Gus suggested. The bacon sure did smell good so Jackson sat at the table. He started to really worry by the time they had finished breakfast and there was still no sign of Leroy.

"I'm just going to see if his car is out front," Jack said, walking to the hallway and opening the front door. There was no sign of his son's car.

"Dammit! He's gone," he said, turning to Gus. "I have to call him. His cell phone number is in my store. I'll be back in a while," Jackson told him as he crossed the street. Like Gibbs, he also gained access through the rear door. He was heartbroken as he looked around his scorched store. Tears welled in his eyes. He turned and continued upstairs. He was glad to see that there was minimal damage to his personal belongings. He noticed the open windows and presumed that Jethro had been there. He found his note book and Gibbs cell phone number. As he went to pick up his own phone, he noticed his son's cell phone still on the coffee table.

"Where are you, Leroy?" he asked aloud, hoping his suspicions were wrong. He picked up Jethro's cell and put it in his pocket. He returned to Gus and told him what had happened.

"Don't worry, Jack. Give him some time. If he's not back by evening, we can ask Seth to have a look around," Gus suggested. Jackson had a bad feeling. He realised that he had to be patient. Leroy was a grown man and had a tendency of doing things his own way. He also considered his profession and took comfort in knowing that he was a marine, more than capable of taking care of himself. So he waited.

---------------

Hours had passed. The first thing Jethro felt when he woke was the cold, damp floor. He realised that he was face down on something gravelly. He struggled to open his eyes. When he did, he thought for a moment that he was blind. All he could see was pitch black. Feeling the ground around him he decided it was safe enough to move. First he raised his head. Big mistake! The slightest movement of his head made him feel sick. He decided to slowly try and sit up. However, his first attempt to roll over resulted in a blinding pain emanating from his shattered knee. He could not contain an agonised scream and collapsed back onto the ground, gripping his leg. The echoing noise resulted in him being showered in dust and small stones. After he recovered from his first attempt, he bravely decided to try again. With great determination and struggling through immense pain he managed to haul himself over onto his backside and leaned on the rugged wall of the mine. He sat motionless for a while, waiting for the pain and nausea to subside. He took deep cleansing breaths and tried to clear his head. He was trying to remember how he had gotten there. He searched the deep recesses of his mind but it was all a blur. He presumed that he must have been working on a case. He looked at his bandaged hands and had no recollection what had happened to them either. All he knew was that his head was killing him. He raised his hand and felt a sticky mess behind his right ear. Blood, he guessed. That would explain his headache and dizziness. Where the hell was he, he wondered. His eyes started to adjust to the darkness. The place smelt of coal. He knew he had to get out of this place but he couldn't see enough to decide which direction to go. Feeling the ground, it became apparent to him that there was a slope, that the ground was not level. He made a decision to try and make his way up the slope, rather than down it. It was going to be a struggle but instinct told him he had to try.

--------------

It was now close to 5pm and there was still no sign of Gibbs back in Stillwater. Jackson had spent the day worrying about his son. With the exception of getting the store boarded up, he had just sat and waited, watching for his yellow car to appear on the street. His gut told him something was very wrong. He decided to call Seth Welch, the local sheriff. Seth called by Gus' house when he was passing on patrol. He was greeted by an anxious Jackson Gibbs at the door.

"Thanks for coming so soon, Seth. You've heard what happened last night I take it," he began.

"I sure did, Jack. Is there much damage?" Seth enquired.

"Enough. But that's not why I called you. My son's missing," he announced.

"Leroy? I didn't know he was back in town again," Seth replied.

"He just arrived yesterday evening. I'm pretty sure he went up to the Winslow's place to see Chuck this morning, but he hasn't come back. He was hurt in the fire, took in a lot of smoke. He could be sick or had an accident. Will you send someone out that way to check?" Jackson asked anxiously.

"Sure, we can have a look before dark. What was he driving?" Seth asked.

"A 426 Hemi, yellow. You can't miss it," Jack said, describing the car he had given his son.

"I'll call you later if there's any sign. Now are you sure he hasn't just gone back to that job of his?" Seth enquired.

"I'm sure. He wouldn't have gone without saying a word. I can call them just to be sure," he told him, as he took Jethro's cell phone from his pocket. Seth got back into his patrol unit and drove out towards Chuck Winslow's place. Jackson picked a number from Jethro's phonebook. It rang.

"Hey, Gibbs! How are things in Stillwater?" Abby asked, as she enthusiastically answered her phone.

"Hello. Is that Abby?" Jack asked hesitantly.

"Gibbs, of course it's me?" Abby replied a little bewildered at why her silver fox would ask her that.

"Abby, this is Jackson Gibbs. We met a few months back," he started.

"Gibbs' Dad? Of course I remember you, Jack. How are you?" Abby asked genuinely glad to hear from him.

"I'm good, Abby," Jack replied.

"What are you doing using Gibbs' phone?" she asked, thinking it unusual for Gibbs to allow anyone use his phone.

"Leroy's missing Abby. Have you heard from him today?" he wondered.

"No, Jack, not sonce yesterday. What do you mean he's missing?"

"There was some trouble here last night and I think he went to sort it out this morning. But no one has seen him since," Jackson explained, with a catch in his voice.

"Okay, Jack. Don't worry, I'm sure he's fine," Abby said, speaking perfectly calmly but flapping her free arm around to release her anxiety. "I'll talk to Tony and call you back."

"Thanks, Abby," Jack replied before hanging up. As Abby hung up her phone, she began panicking.

"Oh my God, oh my God, Gibbs is missing. Okay, calm down. What do I do? Tony, I need Tony," she ranted as she walked in circles around her lab and then scurried up the stairs and into the bullpen.

"Hey Abs!" McGee said, as she hurried past him in a flap.

"Tony, it's not good. I mean something wrong. You see there was trouble and he went to sort it out and now he's missing, gone. He called, well he didn't call, his Dad called and he was so worried and I said everything would be fine, it will be won't it? Everything will be fine," she rambled as she tried to tell DiNozzo about Gibbs.

"Abby! Breathe. Now tell me slowly what's wrong," Tony shouted, stopping her in her tracks.

"Okay," she stopped and took a large deep breath. "I got a call from Jackson Gibbs. He says that our Gibbs is missing."

There was silence for a minute, then Ziva broke the silence.

"Why does he think he is missing? I thought he was visiting his father."

"He was. But Jack said something happened last night and that Gibbs was going to sort it out today. But he hasn't come back. He was hoping that I had heard from him," Abby explained as calmly as she could.

"Has he tried to call him?" McGee asked the obvious question.

"He left his cell phone behind. Jack was using it," Abby informed him.

"I don't know about you guys, but I think we should take a little trip, just to check this out. If the boss is in trouble, he's going to need us out there," Tony said seriously.

"What about Vance?" McGee asked, referring to the Director of NCIS.

"We should tell him. He would want to know if one of his agents is missing," Ziva replied. "I'll do it."

The rest of the team watched in admiration as Ziva confidently took the stairs and made her way to the Director's office. Without fear, she marched in and told him that the team were going to Stillwater, PA to find Gibbs. She explained about the call from Gibbs' father and told him that they were going, with or without his permission.

Vance, a little taken aback by her curtness, surprised her when he told her to go and let him know the situation. He told her to use whatever resources necessary to find him. She thanked him and returned to the bullpen.

"He said that we should use whatever resources necessary to find him and to keep him up to date," she explained to the waiting team.

"Okay, you heard the lady, grab your gear," Tony said, before heading to the elevator. As he's getting in the elevator, Ducky was getting out.

"What's the hurry, Anthony?" Ducky asked, after nearly been knocked down by Tony's urgency.

"The Boss is missing," Tony announced bluntly.

"Jethro? He's not missing, he's on vacation. Back in Stillwater as far as I know," Ducky informed him, thinking that he'd forgotten.

"We know, Ducky. His father called. He hasn't been seen since this morning," McGee explained.

"Oh my! Is that where you're going in such a rush?" Ducky asked. The group nodded in unison. "Let me grab a few things and I'll come with you."

No one objected to Dr. Mallard accompanying them, but they each hoped they wouldn't be needing his services on this one.

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

It was approaching midnight when the NCIS team arrived in the sleepy town of Stillwater. It was a long anxious drive, each member of the team concerned for their boss. Tony and Ziva travelled in one car. McGee, Abby and Ducky followed behind them. Conversation was light, no one really in the mood to share their thoughts on the fate of their fearless leader. The first thing they noticed when they arrived into Stillwater, was the boarded up shop front of Jackson Gibbs' store. Fire damage was evident on the outside walls.

"I guess that's what he meant by a little trouble," Tony quipped as he parked alongside the store. The street was dimly lit. There were little signs of life at that hour. As they got out of the cars, a lone figure crossed the street towards them. It was Gibbs' father.

"Hello, Agent DiNozzo. Ms. David," he said acknowledging them by name.

"I told you last time to call me Tony," DiNozzo replied, shaking his hand. "You remember McGee and Abby. This is Dr. Mallard, he's our M.E.," he said introducing Ducky for the first time.

"I hope you're not here in your professional capacity," Jack said seriously, as he shook Ducky's hand.

"Goodness, I hope not. I'm more a concerned friend," Ducky explained, sensing Jackson's unease.

"Is there any news?" Abby asks, foregoing the niceties.

"Unfortunately not. Seth, the sheriff, called out to Winslow's place. There was no sign of him. Chuck Winslow said he hadn't seen him since he arrested his son in law a few months back. There's no sign of the car or evidence of an accident. He called the lumber yard early this morning and ordered the sheets of lumber to board up the windows. That's the last anyone's seen or heard from him," Jackson explained.

"Jack, you need to go through everything with us. Is there somewhere we can set up?" Tony asked, patting Jack's shoulder.

"Sure. My old friend Gus has been letting me stay with him. You can set up in his place or else you can use up above the store. It smells of smoke but there's no damage," Jack explained. Tony looked at the rest of the team.

"Why doesn't Abby and Ziva go with you to Gus' house and McGee, Ducky and I will set up above the store? We'll have less interruption there," Tony suggested. Everyone agreed so they went their separate ways.

Ziva and Abby sat with Jack and listened as he explained about the trouble he had been experiencing over the last few months, culminating in the store being set on fire the previous night. He told how he suspected Winslow and his guys were behind the intimidation. He also explained how Jethro had been slightly injured and how he was determined to have it out with Winslow. His eyes became teary when he spoke of his belief that Winslow was capable of many things and how he feared for his son's life. Abby felt ever ounce of his pain. She did her best to control her emotions in front of Jack, not wanting to upset him any further. Ziva was her usual calm, collected self on the outside. Though she hid it well, she cared deeply for Gibbs and was very uneasy about the whole thing.

Meanwhile the lads were busy bringing in equipment in to Jack's store. McGee set up his laptop while Ducky and Tony helped bring in Abby's mini lab. Ducky suggested that they get some rest as there was little they could do until sunrise. They each found a spot to crash for the night. Tony used Gibbs old room, Ducky slept on Jackson's bed while Tim ended up on the sofa.

-------------------

Back in the mine, Gibbs was waking up again. He couldn't remember going to sleep. He figured that he must have passed out at some stage. He had no idea how long he had been out. He remembered trying to move and find a way out of this nightmare. He had no idea how far he had dragged himself, but he could still see no light. Upon waking the first thing he noticed was the cold. He was trembling uncontrollably. Then for the first time, he noticed how thirsty he was. His mouth and lips were dry. He knew that without water he wouldn't survive for very long. He knew he had to keep moving. At least the nausea seemed to have left him he thought. He felt down along his injured leg. As his hand got near his knee, he could feel the swelling. It was so badly swollen that his trouser leg was tight around it. He was finding it very uncomfortable but it was the only thing offering support to his injured limb so he decided to put up with it. So using his uninjured leg he pushed himself along on his backside, sliding along the floor of the mine like a child. Even taking his time and being tentative, the pain was excruciating. He was sweating profusely, the effort telling on his injured body, yet he pushed himself further and further up the mine. He was exhausted after about twenty minutes and lay down to rest. His knee was throbbing and he began to feel light headed once more. He closed his eyes and rested. Just for a while, he thought.

---------------------

It's just before dawn when DiNozzo was shaken awake by a none too impressed Abby Sciuto.

"Tony! What are you doing? Gibbs is missing and all you can do is sleep!" Abby shouted, her disgust evident in her voice.

"What?" Tony said sitting up sleepily, completely disorientated. "Abby? What, was I asleep?"

"How could you, Tony?" Abby wails, the commotion waking Ducky and McGee.

"Sorry, Abs. I was tired. I'd just driven for four hours and it was late. Is it morning?" he asked, looking out the window. It was still dark outside.

"Almost. It's 6.15am. Jack sent over some coffee and toast. I left it on the kitchen counter. Ziva is showering. She'll be over in a while so get up. We've got to find him today," Abby said with a look of determination on her face.

By this time, Ducky and McGee were standing in the hallway, trying to look like they'd been awake all the time. McGee's shirt was sticking out of his trousers and he wasn't wearing any shoes. Ducky's hair was standing on end and he was still trying to put on his glasses. Abby tutted as she brushed past them to go back downstairs.

As morning broke and the sun rose, DiNozzo and Ducky headed to the sheriff's office to formally notify them that they were carrying out an investigation in their jurisdiction. It was close to 8am when Sheriff Seth Welch turned up for work that morning. He remembered DiNozzo from the previous case they had worked in Stillwater a few months back.

"So, you guys really think Leroy is missing?" he asked sceptically.

"Yes we do, Sheriff," Ducky replied. "Why else would we be here?"

"I believe you went out to Chuck Winslow's place yesterday evening. We'd be grateful if you'd fill us in on what he had to say," DiNozzo asked.

"Of course. Have a seat," Seth offered as he sat behind his desk. "Chuck said he hadn't seen him," he explained briefly.

"That's it. You just accepted it," DiNozzo asked brusquely his distrust evident.

"Well, I've known Chuck all my life and he's not one to lie to me," Seth told him.

"Oh, well that's just great then. Let's just all pack up and leave then. Looks like you've got it covered," Tony snapped, standing up and banging the desk. "Did it ever occur to you that he might just lie to protect himself? What kind of a law man are you? You can't interview a friend as a suspect. We're going to need to talk to this Winslow fella ourselves," Tony insisted.

"Look here, you can't just come into my town and belittle my police department," Seth replied, taking offense at Tony's remarks. Tony was about to respond then Ducky cut in.

"Gentlemen, please," Ducky interrupted as he saw things might get ugly. "Squabbling amongst ourselves won't find Jethro, now will it? I do think that Agent DiNozzo has a point and that an outsider should talk to Mr. Winslow. Our only concern has to be finding Jethro. Are we agreed?" he asked, looking at both men.

They both nodded, feeling a little like they had been chastised by their father.

"Would you like one of my deputies to accompany you?" Sheriff Welch asked.

"Thanks, but I think we'll find it okay," DiNozzo answered, shaking the Sheriff's hand loosely. He and Ducky left the police station and drove straight up to Winslow's house.

Meanwhile back at the store, McGee and Abby were working a little magic of their own. Between them, they had managed to access the Department of Defence's satellite photo bank. They were attempting to find Gibb's car on the images and trace where he went from the pictures. They began their search at the time Gibbs called the lumber yard. Zooming in on Stillwater they could see Gibbs yellow car parked at the front of the store. With the car being an unusual colour, they reckoned it would be easy enough to track it. In the same image 10 minutes later, the car was gone. Abby brought up the picture a few miles east at Winslow's property. No sign of the car yet. She changed the search parameters to 5 minutes later, still no sign. Another 5 minutes later and the car is in the shot.

"There!" she announced to Tim, pointing to the screen.

"So, it looks like he did go up there," McGee said, leaning in to see. "Okay, so now try and see how long he was there."

Abby brought up another couple of photographs each had the yellow Hemi visible.

"Okay, here. It's not in this one," she pointed out to Tim.

"What's the time line on that?" he asked.

"Almost an hour," she told him.

"Alright. So he was there, for almonst an hour, but we can't prove that he had any contact with Winslow or if he went inside. Can we see where he went from there?" McGee asked.

"We can try. At the bottom of this road, he can turn left or right back into town. Presuming that he didn't come back to town, let's follow the pictures along the road and see does he show up," she suggested as she busily tapped in more information in the PC. After a short while they had looked at several other pictures showing Gibbs' car travelling along this route before it disappeared.

"Okay, he must have taken a turn between here and here," Tim presumed, pointing to the road map. The only possible roads were either up into mountainous region or down to a lake.

"Fancy a drive?" McGee asked Abby.

"Sure. We should take Ziva and Jack. They could search the other route," Abby suggested.

"Problem is we've only one car. Tony and Ducky have the other," Tim explained.

"I forgot. Maybe Gus has a car," Abby smiled as she bounded down the stairs and across the road to where Jack and Ziva were waiting for news.

"I'll call Tony!" McGee shouted after her.

_**Okay, I realise that the satellite tracking thingy is a bit far fetched, but hey...it's only a story!!**_


	5. Chapter 5

All the waiting was taking it's toll on Jacksons Gibbs. He had only once felt this helpless before, the time Shannon and Kelly had been killed. He could do nothing to help his grieving son back then. Instead he had somehow managed to push him away when he needed him most. When Abby suggested that he and Ziva help with the search, he jumped at the chance. Gus had an old VW beetle and was glad to loan it to Jackson. Ziva wanted to laugh when she saw what her ride was to be, but she could see that the little car was Gus' pride and joy and so considerately chose to say nothing. They followed Abby and McGee out to the crossroads about 20 miles from town. He and Abby took the high road into the mountains. Ziva and Jack took the lake road.

Meanwhile, Tony and Ducky had pulled up outside the Winslow residence. Tony had just taken the call from McGee who informed him that Gibbs had definitely driven up to the property the previous morning. He was glad to hear this because he now had something concrete to go on. He was hoping that his knowing this might just shake Chuck Winslow up and get him talking. He got out of the car and surveyed the area. There was only one car in the driveway. The house looked quiet. No obvious signs of life. Ducky emerged from the car and followed him.

"What a pretty house!" he commented as he looked around.

"Sure is. Nice and remote. No nosey neighbours up here, Ducky," he noted as he approached the house. He took out his NCIS I.D. badge before knocking. The door opened. There stood a fifty-something gentleman, slightly pale, similar height to his own.

"Mr. Winslow?" DiNozzo enquired.

"Yes. What can I do for you?" he replied.

"I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS. This is Dr. Mallard. We're investigating the disappearance of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs," he explained.

"I haven't seen him. I told the Sheriff that yesterday," he said calmly.

"I know. Can we come in?" Tony asked with an engaging smile.

"Sure. I'm not sure what else I can tell you," he said, showing the men into the living room.

"You have a lovely home," Ducky said, as he admired the décor.

"Thank you. It's where I grew up," Winslow informed him.

"Mr. Winslow, we have evidence that Agent Gibbs drove up here yesterday morning between 8.30am and 9am. Do you still claim not to have seen him?" Tony asked getting down to business.

"As I told Seth, I had a few friends around the night before. We had a few drinks and I slept in. He may have knocked but I didn't hear him. He probably just turned around and left," he lied confidently.

"His car was outside for almost and hour. Any idea what he was doing for that time?" DiNozzo pressed.

"No. As I said, I didn't see him," Winslow insisted.

"Okay, Chuck, I find that hard to believe so if I find out you're lying to me, I won't be happy," DiNozzo said squaring up to him before walking past and out the front door. Ducky followed quietly behind him. As they sat into the car Tony turned to Ducky.

"He knows something, Ducky. Did you see that? He couldn't look us in the eye," Tony pointed out.

"Yes, I noticed Anthony. And did you see his hands? His knuckles were bruised," Ducky noted.

"I'll try and get a warrant to search the house. Then we'll go over it with a fine tooth comb," Tony decided as he started the car and turned out the gateway.

-----------------

Ziva and Jack bumped along the uneven surface of the lake road. Soon they were at the lakeside. It was very pretty down there. The lake shimmered in the morning sun. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, their reflection picturesque upon the lake surface. There was a dirt track that fishermen used in order to get around the lake. It was muddy and wet. Ziva didn't fancy their chances of getting through the mud in the little VW so she decided to continue the search on foot. Jack insisted on coming with her, even thought the terrain was quite rough. He had to keep busy just to keep himself sane. Otherwise unrelenting thoughts of sheer tragedy and loss gnawed away at him.

He and Ziva picked their way through the soft ground of the dirt track, following the edge of the lake all the time. There were tracks from several vehicles, Ziva had noted as she walked. They had walked for almost thirty minutes when Ziva stopped suddenly and looked in the water.

"What is it?" Jack asked almost bumping into her.

"Something went into the water here," she said, pointing to one set of tyre tracks leading off the bank and into the lake. Her heart sank when she saw the yellow paintwork through the murky water. The edge of the lake wasn't all that deep so the car was visible even though the murky water. She wondered if Jack could see it too. What must he be feeling?

"It's him, isn't it," Jack said sadly. He just stood and stared into the water, wishing he was wrong. Was this where his only son had met his death? He hung his head and allowed tears to fall. Ziva saw how upset he was and hugged him in an effort to offer some comfort.

"Jack, he may not be in it. I'll call Tony and get the Sheriff to organise a tow truck to get the car out of the water. Why don't you come back to the car with me? There isn't much we can do here right now," she said sensibly. With Ziva's arm around his hunched shoulders, Jack returned to the car with her. She sat him into the passenger seat and then made the call.

"Tony, it's me. I've found Gibbs' car," she said outright.

"Great. Where are you? I'll get Abby to go over it, see what trace she can find," he told her.

"No, Tony. There probably won't be any trace. The car's in the lake. We need to get a truck to get it out. Jackson is very upset. He thinks we're going to find Gibbs' body inside," Ziva told him.

"Damn it! What do you think, Ziva? Is he inside?" Tony wondered.

"I hope not. I really hope not," she replied.

"Okay, leave it with me. I'll organise everything. You let McGee and Abs know what's going on," he instructed before hanging up.

Ziva immediately called McGee's cell. She explained what they had found. McGee told her that they would meet them down by the lake as soon as they could. Ziva sat back into the car beside Jack. He was trying to put on a brave face but she could see it in his posture how deflated he had become.

"We wasted so may years," he said solemnly. "I'll always regret that."

Ziva didn't know what to say. She wanted to say something comforting, reassuring but couldn't find the words. She wanted to be positive and shout that everything was going to be okay, that Gibbs was okay, that there was no way he was in that car, but deep down she feared he was right. She was terrified that they would find Gibbs' body in the sunken vehicle. Without uttering a word, she took Jackson's hand in hers and held it tightly until McGee and Abby arrived.

"Where is it?" Abby demanded, as she leapt from the car and ran towards Ziva. "Is he in it? Have you looked?"

"I haven't," Ziva replied. "It's in about 6 or 7 foot of water. There's a recovery team on its way."

"How can you just sit there and not know? This is Gibbs we're talking about. You can't just leave him there," Abby shouted, getting upset.

"Abby, for God's sake. His father is sitting in the car. He's devastated. Stop making a scene and calm down," Ziva replied curtly.

"Abs, Ziva is right. Take it easy. We'll know for sure soon enough," McGee told her. Abby started to cry. McGee put his arms around her and held her. "It'll be alright," he whispered, hoping he was right.

Waiting around was agony. Eventually Tony and Ducky arrived, followed by a vehicle recovery unit. Ziva led them on foot to where the car lay in the water. They all stood there in silence, each hoping that their friend and mentor was not inside. The recovery truck slowly negotiated the muddy track and safely made it to the spot where the car had gone into the water. The driver and his assistant suited up into wetsuits and lines and carefully entered the water. They hooked cables to the rear of the sunken vehicle. Then one of them put on breathing apparatus and dived down to see if there was anyone in the car. He surfaced quickly and pulled off his face mask. He looked up at the worried faces.

"No one inside," he confirmed, shaking his head. "Start it up, Pat," he shouted to his colleague, who began pulling the car from the water.

"Thank God," Jack said, smiling once again. The team knew better than to get too excited. Once the car was out of the water Tony asked Pat to pop the trunk. He felt sick to the stomach as he walked over and slowly opened the trunk. The team held their breaths, hoping and praying for it to be empty.

"It's empty," Tony shouted. "Thank you God," he acknowledged as he looked to heaven.

Abby jumped for joy, kissing Jack and Ducky. Ziva walked away alone and allowed herself a private little cry of relief before rejoining her team. Tony, while happy that they had a good result, knew what finding the car meant. Something had happened to the Boss and it wasn't good. If someone was trying to destroy evidence, to Tony it meant only one thing. Murder.


	6. Chapter 6

Back in town, Sheriff Welch had bumped into Mike O'Neill, one of Chuck Winslow's friends. He was getting into his truck which was parked outside the gas station. Seth thought it wise to take the opportunity to corroborate Chuck's story. Chuck had told Seth that he had spent the night of the fire playing poker with Mike and Tom Grace. Mike confirmed that they played cards into the early hours of the morning. They had a few beers and didn't rise until late the following morning. He claimed never to have met Agent Gibbs before and told him that he saw no one else up at the house that morning. Seth noticed that the wheels of the truck were very muddy yet the body of the truck was shining, as if recently washed.

"Have you been off road lately?" Seth enquired as Mike was getting into the truck.

"Eh, no," Mike stammered, a little rattled by the nature of the question.

"Oh, it's just your wheels look like you've been in the mud," Seth pointed out to him.

"Oh yeah. Yesterday. Some guy got his Nissan stuck in the mud down by the creek last night. I helped him out," he lied.

"Oh right. Well, see you around," Seth said, sitting back into his patrol car. When he got back to the station, a fax had arrived for Agent DiNozzo. It said that a warrant had been issued to search the premises of Charles Winslow. He thought he should call DiNozzo straight away.

"Agent Dinozzo? Sheriff Welch here. I just thought you should know that the warrant you requested has been issued," he told him.

"That's great, Sheriff. We've just raised the car from the lake. It's empty. I'm having it transported to your lot and I'll get our forensic tech to have a closer look at it there later. We'll head back to Winslow's place on the way back to town. Do you want to meet us out there?" Tony asked.

"I'll send two of my deputies. It might be inappropriate for me to be there, seeing as though Chuck and I are friends and all," Seth decided.

"Yeah, you're probably right. We'll talk later," DiNozzo agreed, before hanging up.

Tony told the rest of the team about the warrant being issued. They decided that it would be best for Ducky to take Jack back to Stillwater and wait for news. McGee was to return with the vehicle recovery unit back to the Police Dept lot and start processing the car. Abby, Ziva and Tony would drive back to Winslow's house and carry out a detailed search of the place.

There was little conversation in the car on the journey to Winslow's house. Each of them was lost in thought. It was Abby who eventually broke the silence.

"You guys think he's dead, don't you?" she piped up from the back seat.

"It doesn't look good Abs," Tony replied quietly.

"Tony! How can you just give up on him like that? This is Gibbs. He wouldn't go down without a fight. He's a survivor. He can't die, he just can't," she argued, her emotions freeing themselves once more.

"Abby, I hope you are correct," Ziva said despondently, looking over at Tony in the driver seat.

Their eyes met and both knew they were thinking the same thing.

It wasn't long before they arrived at Winslow's. The Sheriff's deputies were already there. One of them approached DiNozzo and handed him the warrant document. Tony marched up to the front door of the house and knocked loudly.

"Charles Winslow? Open the door. We have a warrant to search these premises," he shouted confidently.

A few seconds later, Winslow opened the door. He didn't look at all surprised. He stepped back and allowed them access without protest.

"I'm not entirely sure what you're looking for," he said to Tony.

"Evidence to prove that Jethro Gibbs was in this house and that you're lying to me," Tony said menacingly.

"You won't find anything here," Winslow insisted.

"You sit down and don't get in my way," Tony orderedas he barged past.

Abby and Ziva carried in their bags from the car. Abby started by taking finger prints from the front door while Ziva photographed tyre tracks around the area where they know Gibbs car had been parked. Abby then progressed into the hallway and eventually into the living room. She spent a lot of time in the living room. She darkened the room and used her UV lamp to look for traces of blood. It showed up some spatter as well as evidence of bleach. Her heart sank when reality began to set in. Something bad happened in this room and someone had tried to clean up. She prayed that whoever's blood this was, that it wasn't Gibbs'. Professionally, she continued processing, taking swabs of the blood and picking up other trace evidence. She asked Tony to lift the floor boards in the area where the bleach had been used. Beneath and between them there was evidence of congealed blood. More samples were taken. As she finished she stood up quickly and ran to the front door. Ziva followed her.

"Abby, are you alright?" Ziva enquired. Abby stood bent over, deep breathing, trying to stop herself from being sick. Ziva tenderly rubbed her back. She knew what she must be going through. Abby straightened up, red eyed and hugged Ziva.

"What happened in there, Ziva? What if that's Gibbs blood?" she sobbed.

"There's only one way to find out, Abby. We have to hold it together. We need to do our jobs now and find out what happened. We have to, for Gibbs," Ziva said in encouragement.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just so hard, you know, without him here," she cried.

"I know, Abs. I know," Ziva replied, hugging Abby tightly.

Just then Tony walked out, escorting a hand-cuffed Winslow to the patrol car. He saw the two girls and felt helpless. He was desperate to know what happened. He was upset but knew he had to be the strong one for the sake of the others. THey neede a leader at a time like this.

Winslow was put into the police patrol car and driven back to Stillwater Police Station. Tony had asked that he not be questioned until he was there, so the Sheriff put him in an interview room with an officer to guard him. When they had finished collecting all the evidence from the scene, the NCIS team made their way to the station.

"Sheriff, do you have any objection if I question him now?" Tony asked out of courtesy.

"No. Go ahead. It's probably best if I sit this one out," Welch decided.

Tony and Ziva entered the interview room where Winslow had been placed. He sat unperturbed on one side of a desk. Tony and Ziva arranged chairs so that Tony sat across the desk from him and Ziva sat behind him.

"So, Chuck," Tony began, smiling. "The evidence is piling up, Chuck! Why don't you just tell me what happened?"

"Sure. I was just hauled away from my home and I'm still trying to figure out why," Winslow replied.

"Ha ha! Good one," Tony guffawed. "You know why you're here, Chuck. You've been read your rights. You _have_ the right to remain silent, but that usually only leads to a whole lot more trouble. Just tell us what happened to Gibbs and it'll make this a whole lot easier on everyone."

"Like I told you this morning, I haven't seen Leroy Gibbs in months," he insisted.

"Really?" Tony asked. "Then why did his car show up on aerial photos of your property taken yesterday morning, eh? Tell me that."

"I've no idea, maybe he's stalking me," Winslow answered.

"Sure he is and he just decided to leave a blood donation in your living room while he was there," Tony added sarcastically.

"That blood is mine. I stumbled while bringing in logs and cut my knee off the corner of the fireplace, must be six months ago," he lied comfortably.

"Really? Did it leave a scar? Well tests will confirm whose blood it is. We should know in a couple of hours. Then we won't need your co-operation. You'll be charged with murder and your lack of assistance will be noted," Tony reminded him.

Winslow said nothing and smiled. Tony could see he wasn't getting anywhere with him. He so wanted to smack him in the mouth but he knew the Sheriff was watching through the one way glass behind him.

"Okay, Agent David, come on. We'll just wait for the results. Bargain time has just ended," Tony said, standing quickly and turning to leave. He hoped Winslow would come to his senses but he stuck to his story. The two agents left the interview room with nothing.

"Sheriff, I'd like you bring in Winslow's poker buddies. We need to talk to them," DiNozzo said, as he looked back through the glass at an oblivious looking Winslow.

"Sure, I'll send out a couple of cars to pick them up. Agent DiNozzo, would it help if I tried to talk to him?" the Sheriff asked.

"It might. Let's just let him stew for a while though. Then if it's okay with you, I'd like to tell him that we've confirmed that the blood belongs to Gibbs and that he's going to be charged with the murder of a federal agent," Tony replied.

"But you don't have any results yet," Seth reminded him.

"I know that. Probably won't have it confirmed for a day or two, so I need to see if we can shake him up a little," Tony explained.

"I see. I've no problem with that. Let me know when," the Sheriff said before returning to his office.

Meanwhile, McGee was busy trying to glean any evidence from the sodden car in the impound lot. There was little or no evidence to be found. Water had washed any prints away. He found Gibbs gun and badge in the glove box, where he had left it. It made him think that Gibbs didn't think he was in any danger when he got out of the car. He must have been taken by surprise, he surmised. He photographed everything and bagged what little physical evidence there was but that was pretty much all he could do. He decided to join Abby back at the store and help her with the analysis of the evidence from Winslow's house. When he got there he found her sobbing.

"Oh Abs," he said, taking her in his arms. He hated seeing her so upset.

"It's the same blood type, McGee," she sobbed.

"That doesn't mean anything Abs, you know that. It's a pretty common blood type," he replied, not knowing if his input was really of any comfort to her.

"I know, but I've had this bad feeling ever since I set foot inside that house. Something horrible happened, Tim. I know it," she insisted. McGee didn't know how to respond. He just held her silently for a while.

"Does Jack know about what we found up at the house?" he eventually asked.

"I'm not sure. Ducky came over when I got back and I told him. He probably told Jack. Poor Jack. What must he be going through?" Abby wondered.

"What we're all going through, I guess," McGee replied sadly, pulling her close once again. She didn't resist and allowed herself to release her anguish.


	7. Chapter 7

Back in the police station, Tom Eastman and Mike O'Neill sat at different desks at different parts of the office, looking nervous and uncomfortable. DiNozzo and Ziva stood talking to Sheriff Welch and glancing over at the men from time to time.

"Sheriff, I'm going to ask you to bring Winslow out of the interview room for a bathroom break. I want him to see that Eastman and O'Neill are helping us with our enquiries, if you know what I mean," DiNozzo said with a wink. The sheriff nodded, knowing exactly what his ruse was. He hoped that if Winslow saw the other two men, that he would realise that the game was up and start talking. He asked one of his officers to get Winslow and escort him to the men's room. Tony positioned himself at the desk where Eastman sat and Ziva sat talking to Mike O'Neill. By the time Winslow came out, it appeared that both men were deep in conversation with the two agents. He swallowed hard, fearing what they were saying. His confidence started to wane as he continued on to the men's room.

By the time he returned to the interview room, the sheriff was waiting to talk to him. Tony and Ziva stood in the viewing room.

"Seth, where have you been? Get me outta here, will you?" Winslow asked audaciously.

"I can't Chuck. This is a federal investigation. My hands are tied," Seth explained.

"Oh, come on Seth. You don't really think I did anything to Leroy, do you?" Chuck asked.

"Honestly, Chuck, I don't know what to think. The evidence is pretty damning. They have photos of his car outside your house. His blood was on your living room floor, for Christ's sake. I can't help you unless you tell me what happened?" Seth insisted.

Winslow looked down at the table top and rubbed the stubble on his chin. He knew he was in trouble. He couldn't see a way out. For all he knew, Mike and Tom were pinning it all on him. He looked up at Seth.

"It was an accident, I swear," he said in a low voice. Seth said nothing, urging him to continue. "I only wanted to rough him up a bit, you know, like the old days," Winslow continued, his head bowed.

"Go on," Seth replied a little ashamed of the memories that came back to him as Winslow spoke. As kids, both he and Winslow often pounced on Leroy and roughed him up after school. For the life of him he couldn't remember why.

"He fell against the fire place in the living room. He didn't move. There was so much blood I knew he was dead. I swear on my daughter's life, we didn't mean to kill him. I was so angry and I wanted him to suffer a taste of what I had suffered. I lost my family because of him, Seth. My little girl hates me. I'll probably never see my grandson again," Winslow continued.

Behind the one way glass, Ziva and Tony couldn't believe what they were hearing. Gibbs was dead? It couldn't be true. But they had heard Chuck Winslow admit to killing him. Ziva stood with her hand to her mouth in shock, staring through the glass at Winslow. Tony said nothing. He was shell shocked. It was as if a nightmare was unfolding in front of him and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

"Where will we find him Chuck?" Seth asked, routinely.

"In a mine shaft, up on Charles Ridge," Winslow answered. "I'm sorry. I swear it was an accident."

Seth Welch stood up without saying a word and turned his back on his old friend. He couldn't believe it either. He knew Chuck could be an idiot sometimes, but he had never figured him for a killer. He exited the room and entered the viewing room where Tony and Ziva were listening.

"I'm real sorry," he said in sympathy. "Leroy could be a pain in the ass but he was a good man." Tony nodded knowing that his condolences were genuine.

"Thanks, Sheriff," he said mutely. "I'm going to have to tell his father," Tony informed him.

"I can go with you if you like," the sheriff offered.

"No thanks. I'd better do this myself," Tony replied solemnly. Outwardly, it appeared to all that he was handling the news pretty well. Deep down he was torn. Gibbs had been the father figure that had been so long absent from his life. He moulded himself on the type of man Gibbs had been. How was he going to break the news to his father, to Ducky, to Abby?

After taking the time to compose themselves, DiNozzo and Ziva drove the short journey to Gus' house. They enter the front door without knocking. Gus had left it on the latch for them coming and going. Sombrely they walked into the kitchen, Tony finding it difficult to look at the anxious faces.

"What is it?" Ducky asks immediately sensing that they had news. The words choked in Tony's throat and all he managed was a grave shake of the head. His action conveyed the devastating message.

"Oh my God!" Abby wailed as her knees turned to jelly. Tim just managed to catch her as she swayed and collapsed in a heap. Ducky sat in stunned silence.

"I'm so sorry, Jackson," Ziva said, putting her hands on his hunched shoulders. She allowed the tears that had been welling in her eyes the whole journey there to finally fall. Gibbs' father sat motionless. He said nothing. Tony began to wonder if he understood what was happening. There was a poignant silence. No one spoke. Distraught glances were exchanged every now and then. Finally the silence broke when Ducky sought more details.

"How did he…? I mean what happened?" he enquired, still not believing what was happening.

"Em, Winslow swears it was accidental. He admitted to roughing him up but said that he struck his head on the hearth as he fell," Tony explained, fighting his emotions.

"I want to see him," Jackson said suddenly.

"Who? Winslow? I don't think that's a good idea," Tony replied, a little off guard.

"My son. I want to see my son," Jackson repeated.

"Oh. I'm sure we can arrange that but right now I was hoping Ducky would come with me to recover the..., to get him," Tony answered.

"Of course," Ducky said standing up from the table. Jackson also got to his feet.

"I'm coming with you," he replied with determination.

"Jack, I'm not sure if that's a good idea," Tony said hoping to deter him. But Jackson was persistent.

"If you won't take me, I'll just get the Seth to take me to him," he insisted, looking Tony dead in the eye.

"Well, alright then. But you will stay in the car until we find him," Tony replied, conceding defeat to the old man.

Tony explained to the room where Winslow had claimed to have dumped Gibbs' body. Abby found it too distressing to hear the details and McGee took her to lie down in another room.

"I'd like to bring him back before it gets dark," Tony said to Ducky.

"Certainly. Just give me five minutes to pack my kit and I'll be ready," Ducky replied as he left the room and went outside to gather some equipment from the car he had travelled from DC in.

Before too long, Tony, Ducky and Jackson began the sad drive to bring Gibbs on his final journey home. Tony communicated with Sheriff Welch and arranged to meet some of his deputies at a crossroads, close to where Winslow said he had left the body. They deputies were local lads with a good knowledge of the abandoned mines and the surrounding areas. They followed the patrol car off the main road and soon found themselves on a narrow dirt track. After a mile or so the track ended and the patrol car ground to a halt.

"It's on foot from here," the deputy said, as he leaned in the driver window. Tony turned to Jackson.

"Jack, I'd like you to stay here. If we find him, I'll send the deputy back and let you know," Tony said kindly. Jackson was about to argue when Ducky interjected.

"Please, Jack. We don't know what we'll find. Let us do our job," he explained sympathetically. Jackson nodded in agreement and sat back into the passenger seat. DiNozzo was glad when one of the deputies agreed to stay with him.

Ducky, Tony and the other deputy began their trek though the rough terrain. The deputy confidently led the way, followed by Tony and then by Ducky who carried a small backpack of basic gear. Tony carried a larger one for him. They walked uphill for close to 20 minutes before the ground levelled once more. They arrived at what at first appeared to be a wall of rock. That was until the deputy moved some bushes and disappeared. Tony raised an eyebrow, impressed at the young man's knowledge of the area. Tony turned on his flashlight and followed him in the mouth of an obviously very old mine. Ducky did the same.

"Be careful," the young deputy warned. "The beams in this mine are over a hundred years old. They're rotten and unstable. I wouldn't go making any loud noises if I were you or the whole lot will come down on your head."

"Great!" Tony whispered, bending down even though the roof was several inches higher than his head. He shone his flashlight down the shaft. He could see nothing. "Right, if you don't hear from us in 20 minutes, send in search and rescue!" he said before descending down the sloping shaft.

"Sure is dark in here," he commented as he journeyed further down.

"Did I ever mention my dislike of the dark?" Ducky asked in passing. Tony couldn't help but chuckle. As they walked, tiny fragments of dust and grit fell intermittently from the roof of the mine. Tony was feeling decidedly uncomfortable, the deeper they got. He was considering turning back when something in the beam of his flashlight caught his attention.

"Over there," he said turning to Ducky. Ducky also shone his light on the crumpled heap that looked out of place in the shadows. Slowly they walked closer until it became apparent that what they were looking at was a person's back. The first thing Tony saw as they approached was the blackened, blood matted hair in the torchlight. Tony stopped and swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and tried to prepare himself. Ducky proceeded undeterred around to the other side of the as yet unidentified figure. He circled until he could see his face. Then he looked at Tony and nodded a confirmation to him. Tony sighed and hung his head. He wanted to scream, he wanted to lash out but in his current location he knew that wasn't the best idea. Ducky was now on his knees beside Gibbs.

"Oh, my dear Jethro. I'm so sorry," he said kneeling beside his friend's body, tenderly touching his cheek. Immediately upon doing so something didn't feel right. The body was cold, but not as cold as it should be. The waxy feeling of a deceased person was absent. Automatically he felt the neck for a pulse. Tony looked at the puzzled expression on Ducky's face.

"What is it?" he asked desperately.

"There!" Ducky exclaimed. "A pulse. It's weak but it's there," he replied eagerly. Tony dropped to his knees beside Ducky. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Boss, can you hear me?" he asked, as Ducky carefully rolled Gibbs onto his back. There was no reply.

"Anthony, I need you to go back and call for help. Then bring me back anything that I can use from the cars," Ducky ordered, as he stripped off his overcoat and covered Jethro with it. Tony saw this and handed Ducky his jacket as well. Ducky took it and gently put it under Gibbs' head. Tony looked at his injured boss and hesitated.

"Hurry!" Ducky urged crossly, startling Tony. Tony turned and jogged back to the mouth of the mine. The deputy was sitting having a cigarette outside and jumped when Tony came rushing out.

"What is it? A cave in?" he asked jumping to his feet.

"What? No, I need to get help. He's alive. Can you radio for medical assistance on that thing?" Tony asked referring to the deputy's two way radio.

"Sure," he replied before calling his controller and explaining the situation. Tony kept running down the hill towards the parked vehicles. After a few minutes he had a stitch in his side and his lungs hurt but he continued with determination. He stumbled several times on the descent but hardly slowed at all. He was relieved when the cars came into view.

Jackson got out of the car when he saw the young agent running towards them. He couldn't understand the urgency and thought that there had been an accident. Tony was shouting something but Jackson couldn't make it out. As he approached, Tony stopped and bent down, heaving as he tried to regulate his breathing.

"He's alive," he panted, as he gasped for air.

"What did you say, son?" Jackson asked, not believing his ears.

"Gibbs. He's alive. Give me blankets from the cars, any water?" he asked searching the interior of the car. He popped the trunk and found the first aid kit and took it. The other deputy took a rug and their first aid kit from the patrol car, as well as a bottle of water he had been drinking. Tony took a large gulp and then wrapped it in a blanket to carry back to the mine. Jackson looked on in disbelief. His mind was swimming. L. J. was alive. His prayers had been answered. He looked up the hill in the direction of the mine. Be strong, son, he willed Leroy in his mind. His thoughts were interrupted by Tony as he threw a pack on his back and prepared to return to the mine.

"Stay here and when the paramedics get here show them where we are. I need to get back to Ducky with this stuff. He's going to be okay, Jack," Tony said to Jackson before turning tail, digging deep into his energy reserves and dragging himself back up the slope.

**_Sorry for the delay in updating. Thanks for the reviews. Keep 'em coming!_**


	8. Chapter 8

Meanwhile back in the mine, Ducky knelt by his friend's side and held his hand. He could see from the bruises and swelling on his face that he had taken quite a beating. The laceration on his scalp was jagged and deep. Obviously where he hit the hearth in Winslow's he thought. He knew the damage such a blow could cause. At best he could have a concussion, at worst a haematoma. Jethro was unresponsive and this concerned him. He shone his torch light into Jethro's eyes to check his pupil's responses. They were sluggish, not a good sign he thought. He was also worried because Jethro's body temperature was very low. He feared his friend was going into hypothermic shock. He had been lying there for over 24 hours after all. Ducky knew dehydration and the cold could be silent killers. He tucked the coat around Gibb's torso, hoping to bring his body temperature up slightly.

"Jethro, you've just got to hold on, do you hear me? Help is on the way," Ducky said, praying Gibbs could hear him. He only hoped that the help he spoke of would get there on time. He knewthat they were in a remote area and that Stillwater didn't have a hospital. He had no idea where the nearest trauma centre was and therefore no idea how long they would have to wait for an ambulance. He shivered slightly in the coldness of the mine, rubbing his hands up and down his arms to try and keep the blood circulating. To him it seemed like Tony had been gone for an age. He decided to keep talking to Gibbs, for his own sanity if nothing else.

"You're going to wake up, Jethro, are you listening to me? Open your eyes for me," Ducky coaxed, hoping to see a flicker of life. Ducky shook his head in despair, still nothing. "It was hard enough for me to have to look after Jennifer when she died, Jethro. Please don't make me go through that again. Come on old friend, open your eyes," he pleaded. As he did so he squeezed Jethro's hand. For a moment he thought he felt a weak grip on his hand also.

"That's it Jethro, open those eyes. Come on," he urged, grasping Jethro's face with both hands. As he did, Gibbs' eyes opened slightly. "There we go, Jethro! That's it," Ducky continued. Gibbs tried to speak. Ducky put his ear close to his lips to try and make out what he was saying.

"Are you real?" he rasped weakly, unable to focus properly.

"I'm very real, Jethro. Don't worry, we're going to get you out of here," Ducky replied. "Just hold on a little longer." Ducky could see that he was struggling for breath and felt helpless. Without equipment there was little he could do except be there for him.

Gibbs eyes slowly closed again. "No Jethro, I need you to stay awake," Ducky said, lightly tapping his cheek in an effort to bring him around again. But he had succumbed to oblivion once more.

Ducky looked up when he heard noises from further up the mine. He hoped it was the rescue party but his hopes were dashed when he heard Tony announcing his return.

"How is he?" Tony asked urgently.

"Not too good," Ducky replied. "How long before help is here?"

"I don't know. The sheriff's department is co-ordinating it. I brought what I could from the cars. Here, some blankets," he said handing them to Ducky. "I brought the two first aid kits, not sure if they'll be of much use."

Ducky tried to wrap Jethro in the blankets as best he could. It was as he was doing so that he noticed the leg injury for the first time. He felt down along Gibbs leg and paused at the knee. "Oh my, I can feel definite movement. His patella is broken," he told Tony. "Did you get any water?" Ducky asked. Tony handed him the bottle. Ducky took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wet it. Then he squeezed it out and let the water drip onto Jethro's chaffed lips. Slowly he tried to get Gibbs to take moisture. Tony looked on feeling powerless. As they were talking, Hamill, the young deputy came down to them.

"The Air Ambulance is on it's way. The only place it can land near here is in the yard of The Winslow Mining Company. It'll take close to 30 minutes for them to hike from there to here," he informed them.

"Thirty minutes?" Ducky exclaimed. "That means it could be more than an hour then before we get him back to the helicopter! I'm not sure he'll make it that long," he replied, painting a pretty bleak picture.

"We could carry him," Tony suggested. "We could try and get him to Winslow's ourselves. Do you know the way?" he asked Hamill.

"Sure I do. It's fairly rough country though and it's getting dark out there," he pointed out.

"I'm not sure about this, Anthony. Moving him might not be the best idea. We don't know what internal injuries he has sustained," Ducky explained.

"What choice do we have, Duck? We can stay here and watch him die or we can get moving and give him a chance," Tony replied with gusto.

"Okay, I agree. We don't have much choice. How will we carry him?" Ducky asked. Tony thought for a minute and then bent down and produced a body bag from Ducky's large pack. Ducky raised an eyebrow but knew it would work.

"Let me check him for other injuries before we move him," Ducky said, as he pulled the blankets from Gibbs and felt his neck and his chest. "There are a few cracked ribs," he noted. "Help me roll him for a minute," he said to Tony. Once they had him on his side, Ducky felt for deformities in his spine. He was relieved to find nothing unusual.

"Okay, put the bag under him and I'll roll him onto it," Ducky advised the two younger men. Once they had Gibbs lying on the bag, Ducky once again wrapped him tightly with the blankets. Ducky and Hamill each took a corner at Gibbs head. Tony took both corners at his feet. Carefully they lifted him. Their improvised stretcher seemed to be working. Gibbs was securely wrapped and for the moment seemed to be okay. They emerged from the mine into the dusk of evening. The sun was barely visible over the tree tops. As Hamill described their route, Ducky was glad to hear that most of their journey was downhill. Being the oldest of the men, he was already tiring from carrying the precious load, but had no intention of letting his friend down. He pushed his ageing body to it's limit. Imagine his relief when he heard the helicopter somewhere in the skies above them. He couldn't see it but it gave him some comfort knowing that Jethro was only a matter of minutes from receiving the vital medical treatment he so gravely needed.

"How much further?" DiNozzo shouted to Hamill, as he peered up through the tree canopy to try and see the chopper.

"Another ten minutes probably. At least the ambulance will have landed by the time we get there," he called back to Tony.

"You hear that Boss? Not long now," Tony shouted, as if Gibbs could hear him.

----------------------

Back in Stillwater, McGee, Ziva and Abby were in Gus' kitchen sipping tea. They felt lost, not knowing what to do. Tim was thinking about packing up and the long, lonely journey back to the Navy Yard. Abby was still in shock and snuffled intermittently. Ziva needed air and went outside and sat on the porch. To her it seemed that Stillwater had become busy all of a sudden. She saw the doctor's car hurry through the traffic lights without stopping. She was sure she could hear a helicopter in the distance. Then Gus rushed up the street, waving his arms.

"What is it?" Ziva said, running to meet him.

"Leroy is alive!" he puffed as he caught his breath.

"What? Are you sure?" Ziva demanded.

"The Sheriff just stopped me and asked me to tell you. He's on his way to the scene now. The Air Ambulance has been called. They found him and he's alive," he announced urgently.

Ziva turned and sprinted back towards the house. She burst in through the kitchen door causing McGee and Abby to jump.

"He's alive!" she yelled joyously.

"Who?" McGee asked puzzled.

"Gibbs of course," she informed them. Abby didn't know whether to believe her or not. McGee needed more information.

"Are you sure? Have they found him?" Tim wondered.

"Yes, alive!! They're taking him to hospital," Ziva explained.

"Yes! Thenk you God," McGee shouted with relief and looking up to the heavens.

"I knew it! I knew he couldn't be dead," Abby exclaimed enthusiastically hugging Ziva.

"Where are they taking him?" McGee wanted to know.

"I don't know. I'll try and find out," Ziva replied as she high tailed it out to the car and drove maniacally to the police station. Tim turned to Abby and lifted her up and swung her around with delight. Maybe it wasn't going to be such a bad day after all.

_Contd/...._


	9. Chapter 9

Ducky and company emerged from the woods onto the roadway just in front of the gates to The Winslow Mining Company. The security guard at the entrance was already aghast having seen a helicopter land in the parking lot and the local sheriff and doctor demanding that the gates be opened. Now seeing the three men carrying another appear from the thicket barely caused him to raise an eyebrow. The picture was becoming clearer to him at least as he approached the two men and offered to help. Ducky gratefully relinquished his corner of the make shift stretcher. He was exhausted. Tony noticed this and was a little concerned.

"Are you alright, Duck?" he asked, realising how tired Ducky looked.

"I'm fine thank you, Anthony," Ducky replied. "Don't worry about me. Let's just get Jethro to the ambulance."

Tony didn't argue as his elderly colleague led the way. As they walked through the gates, the paramedics from the helicopter rushed to meet them. Ducky explained Gibbs' injuries and recommended that they get him to the hospital as a matter of priority. The paramedics agreed and they quickly began loading him into the ambulance.

As they were doing so another patrol car screeched to a halt just inside the gates. Jackson Gibbs ran from the vehicle towards them. Tony and Ducky turned and stopped him.

"Where is he? I need to see him," Jackson shouted, trying to be heard above the roar of the rotor blades.

"Just let them work, Jack. You can see him in just a minute. They're getting him secured for the flight. You'll be able to go with him," Tony shouted back, as he looked over at the still unconscious figure being lifted into the helicopter.

The three concerned men watched helplessly as the paramedics did their jobs. Finally the helicopter pilot shouted to them that they were ready for take off.

"We've room for two more," he told them. The men looked at each other, each wanting to be with Gibbs. There was no question about Jackson going.

"You go, Duck," Tony insisted. There was no argument as one of the paramedics assisted Ducky to climbed aboard. "Where are you taking him?" Tony asked just before they closed the doors.

"Mercy Hospital, Allentown," he replied before closing the door and signalling to the pilot to take off.

Tony and the other onlookers backed away as the downdraft increased and the Medivac Helicopter slowly rose into the evening sky. Tony watched the blinking light of the helicopter until it disappeared from sight. Then he asked the deputy for a ride back to where they had left his car. It was dark by the time they reached it. Tony thanked the deputy and tiredly sat back into his sedan. As the deputy drove away, Tony sat holding on to the steering wheel his head bowed, allowing the emotions that he'd been bottling up for the last two days to spill out. To Tony, losing his boss would have been like losing a member of his family. It was unthinkable. This day had been a rollercoaster. Being told Gibbs was dead had really shaken him. Then finding him alive felt like a miracle. Now, he just prayed that they had reached him on time. He took a deep breath and wiped away his tears with his sleeve. Composing himself, he started the car and turned to head back to Stillwater. He knew Abby, Ziva and McGee would be wondering what was going on.

As he arrived back in the sleepy town, there was little activity on the street. When he turned down the street towards Gus' house he saw Abby waiting anxiously on the pavement. She rushed to the car as he pulled up.

"Tony! Where is he?" she called as he opened the car door. She noticed his red, puffy eyes. "Oh no, tell me he's okay," she pleaded.

"He's on his way to hospital, Abs. He was in bad shape when they took him," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders and guiding her back into the house. Once inside he was able to update the rest of the team and Gus on the events of the evening. They were all relieved and anxious at the same time. They were eager to get to the hospital and so they wasted no time in beginning their journey to Allentown.

Meanwhile, the helicopter was landing on the roof of the Mercy Hospital. There was a trauma team waiting to greet them. They whisked Gibbs from the roof top to the elevator and down to the Emergency Room. All the while both his father and Ducky remained at his side. They stood aside as Gibbs clothes were cut of him and the medical team determined the extent of his injuries. They then covered him with a thermal blanket to bring his core temperature up. Ducky paid careful attention to what was going on, trying to pick up any snippets of information he could. Jackson also listened carefully but didn't really understand the implications of the stats and medical jargon that was flying around the room. Then a nurse approached them.

"Why don't you gentlemen wait outside?" she suggested, ushering them out whether they liked it or not. "We'll be monitoring him for a while and then we'll send him for a head CT. I'll come and get you if there's any change."

"Okay, thank you," Ducky said, showing Jackson to a row of seats on the corridor outside the Trauma Room. Ducky looked at the confused and worried expression of Jackson Gibbs and was adamant to try and help him understand what was happening with his son.

"He's in the right place you know, Jack," he began. "They're trying to stabilise him right now. His core body temperature is low, causing a low pulse rate. THey need to rehydrate him and warm him up. When his stats improve, they'll do a head CT," he continued. "Do you know what that is?"

"Some kind of x-ray?" he answered, looking anxiously into Ducky's face.

"That's right. They'll use it to check for any bleeding on his brain or other internal injuries," Ducky explained. Ducky squeezed Jack's shoulder. "He's strong, Jack. He'll be okay," he said confidently.

The two men sat patiently and waited. Ducky left only once to get them both coffees. Eventually the nurse returned.

"We're about to bring him upstairs for his CT. If you'd like to see him, you can go in now for a few minutes," she said kindly. Both men stood and followed her.

Gibbs remained unconscious on the gurney, attached to monitors and tubes. His eyes were swollen and bruised. The ghastly gash on his head was covered with gauze but his silver hair still looked black from the coal dust in the mine. It was still matted with dried blood although someone had obviously attempted to clean the blood from his neck and face. The sight sickened Jackson. This was his only son, his only family, his legacy. Timidly he approached the gurney. He was almost afraid to touch his son. He took Jethro's hand gently between in his own and softly brushed his bruised face with the back of his other hand as any father would to his child.

"Leroy," he whispered. "It's me, Dad. You're going to be okay, you hear me son?" He turned to Ducky and asked, "Can he hear me, Dr. Mallard?"

"I'm not sure," Ducky replied. "But you should keep talking to him. I expect he knows you're there."

The doctor treating Gibbs returned and told them that he was going up to have his scan. Ducky watched the touching scene as Jackson kissed his son on his forehead. Whatever had gone one between them, his father's love had never diminished, he thought. They left the room and returning to the waiting area. They watched as Gibbs was wheeled to the elevator and taken upstairs. They waited for what seemed like an age before the doctor returned.

"The scan shows a small depressed fracture in the temporal bone of his skull. There is some swelling but the good news is that there's no bleeding so we won't need to operate. However, he will require surgery on his knee but we'd rather wait until he's stronger before undertaking any surgery. He's being settled in to an ICU bed on the 3rd floor if you'd like to see him," the doctor explained.

"Thank you Doctor. Might I ask how you propose to treat the brain injury?" Ducky enquired, preferring to know as much as he can.

"We'll start him on Mannitol. It's usually very effective in traumatic brain injury. Then I'll arrange that he take a series of anti-convulsant drugs for the next week or so, just as a precaution," he explained.

"Thank you, Doctor," Jackson said, shaking the doctor's hand. "Thank you."

Jackson and Ducky took the elevator and proceeded to the ICU. They were shown to Gibbs room by an attractive young nurse. The room was dimly lit and Gibbs lay there ever so still. His father took position at the head of the bed and began to speak words of reassurance to his son once more. Ducky was relieved to see that Gibbs pallor had improved and that he looked much better than the last time he had seen him. Automatically he picked up the chart at the end of Gibbs' bed and studied it silently. Then he sat, reassured men and willed him to wake.

**_Keep going...we're nearly there._** **_Just one more chapter!_**


	10. Chapter 10

As it happened they didn't have to wait too long. Ducky was the first to notice the flickering eyelids as Gibbs fought to regain consciousness. For Gibbs, it felt as though he was underwater and struggling to reach the surface. He managed to open his eyes slightly and a beam of bright white light stung his retinas and dazzled him. Where was here he wondered? His eyes refused to focus and he kept blinking in an effort to clear his vision. He could hear voices. They were familiar to him and made him feel at ease. Someone was saying his name. He blinked again and tried to focus his vision in the direction of the sound. A blurry figure entered his line of sight. Slowly, his vision cleared and he recognised the figure.

"Dad?" he croaked, his voice not yet recovered for his earlier intubation in the E.R.

"Yes Leroy I'm here," Jackson replied grabbing his son's hand.

"And I'm here too, Jethro," Ducky announced in his own inimitable manner. "Welcome back!"

"Where am I?" Gibbs asked trying to figure out what had happened to him.

"You're in the hospital, son," Jackson told him. "The Doc says you're going to be okay."

"How? I mean …. was I shot? I don't remember," he said weakly.

"No, Jethro. You've taken a nasty blow to the head and you're going to need surgery on your knee. It's a long story. We'll tell you all when you're feeling up to it," Ducky explained briefly. Gibbs nodded and knew he couldn't fight the tiredness. Soon he was sleeping once more.

Ducky and Jackson sat in silence, allowing themselves to rest for the first time in a couple of days. Jackson dozed in a chair beside his son's bed. Ducky took the chair nearest the window. At one stage he thought he could hear Abby outside in the corridor. He peered out the window and saw that the rest of the team had arrived. Silently he rose and slipped out of the room, hoping not to disturb Jackson who was sleeping.

"Ducky! There you are! Where's Gibbs? How is he?" she gushed, as she rushed to greet him.

"Sssh. He's in there," he replied, pointing to the room from which he came. "He's going to be fine."

Tony exhaled a loud sigh of relief for all to hear.

"Thank God. Did he say anything?" he wondered.

"Not much. He has a skull fracture and associated swelling. He's confused and disorientated but that's only to be expected. He woke briefly but for the most part has been sleeping. His father's with him now," Ducky informed them.

"But he's going to be okay," Abby repeated, looking for further reassurance.

"Yes Abigail. He's scheduled for surgery on his knee in the morning but he should be back to himself in a few days," Ducky replied.

"Can we see him?" Ziva asked sheepishly.

"Well, he's sleeping and so is Jackson. Why don't you wait here and I'll come and get you once he wakes," Ducky suggested. There was no objection.

"Okay, sounds like we're celebrating! I don't know about you guys but I'm starving. How about I go and get us some pizza, my treat?" Tony offered generously.

"Really?" McGee asked, taken aback by his out of character generosity.

"Don't sound so surprised, McGeek. It's a once in a lifetime offer. It's not every day your boss comes back from the dead! Grab it while you can," Tony smiled.

"Count me in," McGee replied.

"Me too," Abby replied. "No olives!"

"Well, if you're buying," Ziva replied.

They all found a waiting room not far from Gibbs room. They settled in on couches and comfortable chairs and waited for Tony to return. After about thirty minutes, he returned loaded down with pizza boxes and sodas. The team descended on the feast hungrily and tucked in. Pretty soon they had emptied most of the boxes and drained the sodas. They sat back and allowed their meal to digest. As they relaxed, Jackson Gibbs strolled in to the waiting room.

"I sure hope there's a slice left," he said as he entered. Tony jumped respectfully to his feet.

"You're in luck Jack. Pepperoni or ham and mushroom?" Tony said, as he rooted through the pizza boxes.

"Pepperoni, thanks," he said, taking the box on his knee.

"How is the boss?" McGee asked, as Jackson took a bite. Jackson tried to swallow before answering.

"I raised one tough kid." Jack replied proudly. "He was in pretty bad shape when he got here, but there's no lasting damage. His knee is banged up and no doubt he'll be complaining about being laid up but I'll gladly take his bad mood, especially when I know how close I came to losing him," Jackson continued solemnly.

Abby bit her lip, trying to staunch her tears from starting again. She too knew what a close one it had been. She just nodded and smiled at Jackson as he battled with a string of mozzarella and continued eating. They resumed chatting and joked and laughed about how impossible their boss would be to live with for the next few months while he was on crutches.

Shortly after, Ducky returned to them to tell them that Jethro was awake once again. The doctors were with him, carrying out a few tests. He told them that they could see him once the doctors had finished. With that Abby jumped to her feet and raced from the room towards Gibbs' room leaving the others in her wake. She just wanted to see him with her own eyes. She wouldn't let herself believe that he was okay until she saw him. She watched through the glass as the nurse raised the back of his bed placing him in a sitting position. He looked drowsy, she noticed. His face was bruised and swollen. A large white bandage covered a recently shaved portion of his head where his scalp had been stitched. She had never seen him look so battered before. My poor, poor Gibbs, she thought.

The nurse noticed her looking in and beckoned her into the room. Meekly she entered, not really knowing what to do or say. She approached Gibbs slowly.

"Hey Abby," he said when he finally saw her.

"Oh Gibbs!" she said, before throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly.

"Easy Abs," he winced as he paid the price for her enthusiasm.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I should have known. I hurt you didn't I? I can't believe I hurt you. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm really sorry. Are you okay Gibbs? Please say you're okay. Maybe I should go," she said apologising incessantly.

"Abby, I'm okay. Come here," he replied, reaching out to her with his bandaged hands. He patted the edge of the bed for her to sit. She did so very carefully. He put his hand on hers. She sat like a child and allowed herself to relax into him. And that's how the rest of the team found them when they too entered the ICU room.

"Hey Boss," Tony said greeting his mentor. "Boy you look like…." he started "..like you could do with a vacation," he finished awkwardly.

"Thanks DiNozzo. Tactful as ever," Gibbs smiled.

"Can you remember what happened, Boss?" McGee asked.

"It's like I know what happened but I just can't quite get it in order in my head," Gibbs admitted.

"Don't worry about that Jethro," Ducky piped up. "It will come back. You've been given a lot of pain medication for your knee and that would cause confusion to most men," Ducky informed him.

"Ducky tells me you all thought I was dead," Gibbs smirked.

"It wasn't funny Gibbs," Abby chastised when she saw the smirk. "It was the worst day of my life."

"I'm sorry Abs. Guess I missed all the action," he replied.

"I think you were on the receiving end of most of the action," DiNozzo reminded him clumsily. Gibbs smiled and decided not to pounce on him today. After all the kid had done good. According to Ducky if it wasn't for Tony he would probably still be in that mine, he realised. He had always maintained that DiNozzo had the makings of a fine agent and he was proving it more and more each day.

"The Doc tells me that I'll be out of commission for a few months with this knee, so it looks like it's your team for a while," he said to Tony. Tony beamed with pride. To have the blessing of Gibbs was all he craved. There was an awkward silence.

"Well, what are you still doing here? Who's minding the shop? Haven't you had a long enough break?" Gibbs asked seriously, glaring at DiNozzo.

"On it Boss!" Tony replied, as he turned flustered and pushed McGee towards the door. "Come on Probie. You heard the man," he said as he high tailed it out of the room. Gibbs, Ziva, Abby, Ducky and Jackson started to laugh at Tony's dramatics and McGee's protests.

"Go on, the lot of ye!" Gibbs ordered. "Can't a man get any sleep around here?"

Abby stood up and kissed him on the forehead.

"I'll be outside. You have a rest and I'll be back if you need anything," she promised.

Gibbs smiled graciously. He watched as they left the room. He realised how lucky to have them. They were his family. He knew the road to recovery was going to be hard on him because he hated being dependant others, but one thing he knew for sure, was that he could depend on each and every one of them. He lay his head back on the pillows and closed his eyes safe in the knowledge that his family would be there when he woke.

THE END

_**Probably seems like a sudden ending. Could've gone on about Gibbs' recovery, etc., but thought it'd be dragging it out too much. Sorry if anyone's disappointed. Thanks for taking the time to read it anyway!**_


End file.
